Thursday, February 15, 2007

Miss Kitty has thrown down the gauntlet.

As Miss Kitty has refused to remove those outrageous and trashy UGA stickers from my old pickup truck, I am now forced to fire a warning shot over her skunky red-and-black bow with a little story about said wayward English professor.

When we were kids and forced to share a bed because out-of-town guests were staying over, I hated it. It's not that I minded the company per se. Kitty and I have always--always--been extremely close. However, Miss Kitty makes for a terrible sleeping partner. She kicks, she steals cover, and she talks in her sleep. An eight-hour night with her results in only about two hours of real sleep for da Pixie, cuz it goes a little sum'n like this: her foot makes contact with my knee, then she rolls one way and the other to pull the comforter off my feet, then she mumbles something incoherent. I turn over to try to ignore her. Bad mistake: I get a foot in the ass and all blankets are removed from my torso. Then she mumbles something else.

Sometimes kids grow out of this. Our Kitty, alas, did not. In college, we had to share my bed when guests stayed in hers one holiday weekend. Within fifteen minutes of lights out, the rumpus began.

Kick.
Grab.
Punt.
Yank.

I yanked the blankets back from her linen-greedy paws and rolled over onto my back. She got still, and just as I was about to drift off to dreamland....she sits up in bed. She sits up, leans over her knees, pauses, and says:

"Needs more sauce."

WHUMP! She collapsed backwards again and didn't. move. a muscle. the rest. of the night.

Meanwhile, on the other half of an increasingly too-small bed, inquiring minds want to know what the fuck needs more sauce and why was this the moment to share this revelation. Asking her this the next morning provided no solutions.

"I said what?" Kitty asked.
"Needs more sauce," I replied. "What the hell were you dreaming?"
"I didn't have any dreams last night," she said. She gave me a skeptical grimace. "What did I say? 'Needs more sauce'?"

"Yes. Evidently, we were in need of sauce last night, or at least more of it."
Kitty shook her head. "I don't remember saying that."

She did it again when I was home alone for Christmas before Guy was able to fly into town for the weekend. We were snuggled up under her homemade quilts, listening to the rainfall outside and NPR on her little radio, and about four in the morning, she turned over, held up a hand and said, "Well, if it's not gonna work they need to try something else."

I stirred. Renee Montagne was on NPR talking with a guest about a recipe for holiday cheese balls. "If what doesn't work?" I asked.

No answer. The Mystic Oracle of Random Bullshit was done for the morning.

6 comments:

ms. kitty said...

I suspect my TBSJL (tiny baby sister Jean Louise) could say the same thing about me, MHP. And she has entirely different memories than I do of the same events! How can that be?

<:3(___)~ Captain Obvious said...

LOOOL!! That's rich! That's hilarious! More! XD

BaxterWatch said...

All I can say is Poor Poor Poor Mister Greenjeans....

I too am a weird Ouja Board Sleeper. Except I like to cuss. Alot. At volume. Its GREAT fun for what ever boy is shacking with me at the time. But I am NOT NOT NOT a cover sleeper. And I'm one of those "don't touch me" sleepers.

But I have two brothers, and while I am from Alabama, I never had to sleep with them when company was visiting....

And perhaps the UUUUUGGGGa stickers are her way of trying to "relate" to her students?

But I'm starting to question the "educated" in her blog address.

That, or I see now what she's "poor."

snerk. Have a great weekend, Pixie!

Miss Kitty said...

Oh my! The abuse I take from GT alums! While I am a poor college professor (because engineering did not interest me in the least, and a non-interested engineer is a terrible engineer), and while ONLY 7 million of the 8 million books in the UGA Library have been colored in, I can feel good about myself knowing that at least I did not go to a school where the most interesting thing to do on campus is figure out how next to steal the "T" off the clocktower. :-P Sauce!

Boo-Boo is mine. MwaaaaAAAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAAA-HAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

BaxterWatch said...

Mock us as you will, Miss Kitty o'the Wilderness....

Stealing the "T" wasn't the only thing doin'...

there was climbing the Tit, breaking into SAC to swim in the olympic sized pool, overflowing the Library fountain on the coldest days of the year to ice "The Hill" before they closed it to the Stinger...etc. Not to mention all of Atlanta as our playground.

As an enginerd who was ruthlessly educated by my English PhD mother and subsequent Catholic high school, I do have utmost respect for those of you people who can actually write - trying to proof some of my "team"'s lab reports was akin to being hung by my toenails while red chilli peppers were ground into my eyes. (What the ...? Have you people never heard of subject verb agreement?)

But to desecrate Pixie's truck. That's just so so... sad.

Mile High Pixie said...

Ms. Kitty, I will never udnerstand how my Kitty can remember things so differently from the way I do. :-P In her defense, I might add, she has a phtographic memory and can memorize random series of letters and numbers up to 16 digits upon one look.

Capt. Obvious: Oh, there's so much material....

Baxterwatch: You ain't lie! That Library fountain had it coming! I can't drive through Athens, GA with my car window open or someone's liable to throw a diploma in my back seat. I'm lucky, though, that my boss is very receptive to my spelling and grammatical acumen and asks me for help all the time...so flattering....

Miss Kitty: I can at least thank you for not being a disinterested engineer. I've worked with some in my day, and they make a project so painful. Thanks for dealing with disinterested college students instead. Not that *that's* any less painful.